I spend my happiest hours in reading Vedantic books. They are to me like the light of the morning, like the pure air of the mountains - so simple, so true, if once understood.
quote by Max Muller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On Books
Books are my first love, I’m so proud to read;
They give me knowledge and help life to lead;
Hours, days just pass by, by reading life-time;
Life would not be worth, if not for my rhyme.
Great are those people who write books all life;
Burning just candles, with Goose-quills in strife;
Tired of writing though day-long or night,
They keep on writing in such a bad light.
Books serve a great cause; their value can’t cease;
It takes years to write but reading is ease;
Book-makers struggle to print a few books;
And keep spending time to, improve their looks.
Some find their way to libraries in town;
Some remain untouched and nev’r taken down;
Silver-fish, Moths eat the books that are old;
Some are gone obsolete, some sold like gold.
Some are in tatters and must be rebound;
Books are Man’s best friends where solace is found;
Reading for long hours, does help you to learn;
Books give much knowledge and wisdom to men.
Read books with great care whose weight is in gold;
Serve generations though they may be old;
Source of much Info, deserving respect;
Books are life-partners whom you ne’er reject!
poem by John Celes
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Father
Father, blessed father,
Its morning again.
I give you, father, myself, father,
Continue your plan.
I know together we can climb mountains in the sky.
No one can stop us when Im standing by your side.
Troubles knocking here again;
Ill tell him jesus has me by his hand.
Hell walk me through.
Father, loving father,
Create in me
A pure love, father, your love, father,
Instill it in me.
I remember the nights Ive cried for you;
Now I only have to die for you;
Thank you, lord, youve made it clear just for me.
I see the light;
Its burning out the night.
Oh, father,
Its morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Simple
(In memoriam our singer Madalina Manole who died yesterday after she committed suicide.)
If she would die
Simple
Being only
Profoundly devastated
By grieve
Perhaps nobody
Would have understood
What really happened to her.
But she didn't die so simple.
He died for ever
For everyone to understand
The reason why
The pure and simple truth
Is rarely pure
And never simple.
In this world
Perceived through our senses.
We are nonexistent
Without our soul.
And the world makes no sense
Any longer.
Tears do not fall,
Leaves do not wither,
Flowers do not bloom
Ever.
Simple
They disappear
Being destroyed
In their self-esteem.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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In Hell
You live by the book of wonders,
The book has hell on it when opened.
The inferno carries pits too grilling,
The grills are offered by devils,
Contagious diseases are handed over
To the body and bones, full of hatred.
A hell of books is opened by the librarian,
You choose a simple verb to read,
Then this verb is read, the verb that signals death.
Your death must never come by reading books,
Long scrolls so wonderful,
Of books the world is made
And the reason for books is reading,
Not living in Hell.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Chronicles Of A Day Stranded In Nature Part 4 Spend A Day
One day
I had another fey
Imbroglio... why you there reader would you care?
Why stay there
Reading this... I urge you
That you could share my experiences too
Spend just one fey day at least
In nature stranded with only essentials as for food, don't bring a feast
Spend a day
Reading me, stranded in nature, for that is when you truly know me
Or spend a day, stranded in nature, reading you, for that is when you truly
Truly... find yourself
poem by David Knox
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Unfit Books
on table
on the room...
some books
with out reading...
but open
un fit
some books close
finish the reading...
with fit...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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The Human Inside
Ah my heart if just for once
You could kill the human inside
You would be the happiest one
If you could hate walking under the rain and cry
If you could ignore the pure emotions of love
You would be the happiest one
If you could support the false and the lie
And say Its black when its snowy white
You would be the happiest one
If you could close your eyes and disregard
When you see the poor and forget to
Cry
If you could give up your principles and your rights
And chase up what makes you glad.
You could never ever be a happy one.
.
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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The Land That Time Forgot
Where the dinosaurs lie sleeping,
In the land that time forgot,
Save by the loyal crofters,
Whose lives abide atop,
Those magnificent white mountains,
Whose mood can turn so fast.
To know them is to love them
With their awesome graceful past.
Imperious, they'll forever stand,
Amidst the secret glens.
Withstanding ever, test of time.
Towering over brooks and benns.
If you enter through the gates of time,
Expect them to enfold,
You, with an Energy unique and pure
Where time is liquid gold.
Moments they spell hours,
And days turn into years.
The mighty mountains tall and true
Will wipe away all tears.
If you have the courage,
And you know this life's for you,
The hills and glens and bothies,
Will be ever always true.
To those who see God's mistress,
Will she always hold you tight.
So take a breath and make the step,
From darkness into light.
poem by Rosi Caswell
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Books of a Reader and Drinker
The library of books to do with life are great,
Inside them we discover a whole new story.
Their covers are as hard to swallow as fish,
Meeting a drinker dissolves your hatred of reading.
The drinker is a drunkard of the odd variety,
He reads like an angel when his wings number many,
But then they shed due to drink, and the beer has departed.
For this reading composes the mind,
The books of ancient nature fall from the shelves,
They burn by the dozen and leave us with true knowledge.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Awesome understanding of everything
There were times when I was a very young child, that a feeling…
A sense of well being would flood over me. When I felt completely
At ease with…and understood fully the great scheme of all things great
And small, without knowing exactly just what it was that I understood so
profoundly, nor why it made feel so good.
That was so long ago. But then inexplicably It happened again!
While sipping morning coffee and reading two versions of Jean Auel’s
“The Mammoth Hunters” one in Spanish and the other in English, while
Taking my morning coffee at McDonalds in Walmart.
My weary ol’ eyes drifted from my books upon which I had laid my glasses,
To rain clouds misting over the mountains that rim the Vegas valley. I rubbed
My eyes and then my brow…and that was when my childhood epiphanies returned.
Sitting with eyes closed, fingers wrapped round my foam coffee cup, That sense
Of wonder…of profound peace, serenity and complete understanding flooded over
me once more….And for a few precious seconds I knew all…and had the answer to
Everything!
That feeling of bliss and awesome wisdom was fleeting indeed, and reality returned
To the staccato chatter in Chinese, of someone speaking loudly (as almost all cell phone users are
given to do) accompanied by giggles from a gaggle of young Mexican girls a few booths away.
My feeling of being one with the universe slipped back to whence it came. I replaced my
Glasses on my nose, sighed, with a monumental sense of loss, took a sip of my lukewarm
Coffee, focused on my books once again and regretfully returned to reality, while wondering
“is this some quirk, peculiar only to me?
If you’ve bothered to bear with me this far, and have ever experienced this, and/or can
relate to this phenomenon, then perhaps we share something special or…perhaps something
not so special at all.
poem by David Whalen
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From The Cantata For N. F. S. Grundtvig
His day was the greatest the Northland has seen,
It one was with the midnight-sun's wonders serene:
The light wherein he sat was the light of God's true peace,
And that has never morning, nor night when it must cease.
In light of God's peace shone the
history
he gave,
The spirit's course on earth that shall conquer the grave.
Might of God's pure peace thus our
fathers'
mighty way
Before us for example and warning open lay.
In light of God's peace he beheld with watchful eye
The people at their work and the spirit's strivings high.
In light of God's pure peace he would have all learning glow,
And where his word is honored the 'Folk-High-Schools' must grow.
In light of God's peace stood 'mid sorrow and care
For Denmark's folk his comfort, a castle strong and fair;
In light of God's pure peace there shall once again be won
And thousand-fold increased, what seems lost now and undone.
In light of God's peace stands his patriarch-worth,
The sum and the amen of a manful life on earth.
In light of God's pure peace how his face shone, lifted up,
When white-haired at the altar he held th' atoning cup.
In light of God's peace came his word o'er the wave,
In light of God's pure peace sound the sweet psalms he gave.
In light of God's pure peace, as its sunbeam curtains fall
To hide him from us, stands now his memory for all.
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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My Alma mater was books, a good library... I could spend the rest of my life reading, just satisfying my curiosity.
Simple Friends and True Friends
A SIMPLE friend has never seen you cry...
A TRUE friend has her shoulders wet because of your tears...
A SIMPLE friend does not know your parents' names...
A TRUE friend has all their numbers in her phone...
A SIMPLE friend brings a bottle of wine to your party...
A TRUE friend comes early to help you get everything ready and leaves late because she stayed to help you clean...
A SIMPLE friend hates it when you call and she was about to go to sleep...
A TRUE friend asks you why you why you took so long to call...
A SIMPLE friend will talk to you about your problems...
A TRUE friend will help you with your problems..
A SIMPLE friend will imagine your romantic life...
A TRUE friend will use it to tease you...
A SIMPLE friend will act as another guest when she comes to your house...
A TRUE friend will help herself to anything from the fridge...
A SIMPLE friend thinks your relationship will end after a big fight...
A TRUE friend knows your relatiionship will be stronger...
A SIMPLE friend expects you to be there for her...
A TRUE friend will always be there for you...
(I need to finish it. I got it from a powerpoint slide off the internet)
poem by Daisy Perez
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Life being very short, and the quiet hours of it few, we ought to waste none of them in reading valueless books.
quote by John Ruskin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Understanding is only misunderstanding
When you say
“I understand”
You simply confess
That you are only trying
To understand
And you affirm
To guard against
Misunderstanding
Though this may not be true
In a technical discussion
This is always true
When attempts are made
To evaluate issues
Pertaining to minds and emotions
Let us admit
We have not understood
Any one and
Any of the thought processes
Associated with any individual
How many of us
Have understood our parents?
How many of us
Have understood our spouses?
How many of us
Have understood our brothers
And sisters?
How many of us
Have understood our sons
And daughters?
How many of us
Have understood our customers,
Employers and employees
Bosses and sub-ordinates
More you are confident
About these understandings
More likely
You have misunderstood them
Do not ever claim
That you have
Understood others
As you now understand
That
Understanding is only
Misunderstanding
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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I'm Not Like You
I sit here now,
Writing this poem.
You read it now,
No matter what’s goin.
Sometimes it’s rainy,
Sometimes it’s not.
You read this poem now,
Go do you the homework you forgot.
Life can be simple,
It can also be complicated.
Be when read this now,
Please don’t get frustrated.
Thanks for reading this,
You’re a cool person that much is true.
But to spend the time and read,
I’m probably not much like you.
Memoires
Morning light,
six people awake at five
It is morning,
they are dressed in PJ's
Coffee is made,
Black and bold, with creamer
Dad is reading the bible to himself
in the light of a lamp
sitting in his old armchair
Mom left for work,
carrying her handbag
Brother getting ready to leave
on a four day fishing trip
ferrets taken care of
no overthinking
about the book I'm reading
No less worries than the day before
just smaller ones
and all the cares in the world
have less weight than goose down
against the good memories
poem by Poet Dragon
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Simple Life
Imagine what it would be like
just to live the simple life,
a life with no electricity,
no radios, no TV and no music
blaring in your ears
twenty-four hours a day.
Back to the simple life
going to sleep when you are tied
and getting up when you want to,
work through the hours of daylight
on your own plot of land,
curl up with a good book
when evening calls.
Grow your own food
with no chemicals to help,
greet the morning sun
always with a smile.
Would it be nice to live the simple life
every once and a while.
14 October 2009
poem by David Harris
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A Picture Story For The Curious
(You supply the pictures!)
I get to meditate
in a chair!
Or against the wall
with my legs
stretched out!
(Or even in bed!)
I get to see
maybe half
of what I'm looking at!
(This changes everything!)
I get to dance
like the tipsy old men
I adored
when I was an infant!
(They never dropped me!)
I get to spend time with myself
whenever I want!
I get to ride a bicycle
with tall
handlebars!
(My posture improves!)
I get to give up
learning to sail!
I get to know
I will never speak
German!
I get to snuggle all
morning
with my snuggler
of choice:
counting the hours
by how many times
we get up
to pee!
I get to spend time with myself
whenever I want!
I get to eat chocolate
with my salad.
Or even as a first course!
I get to forget!
I get to paint
with colors
I mix myself!
Colors
I've never seen
before.
I get to sleep
with my dog
& pray never to outlive
my cat!
I get to play
music
without reading
a note!
I get to spend time with myself
whenever I want!
I get to sleep
in a
hammock
under the same
stars
wherever I am!
I get to spend time with myself
whenever I want!
I get to laugh
at all the things
I don't know
& cannot
find!
I get to greet
people I don't remember
as if I know them
very well.
After all, how different
can they be?
I get to grow
my entire
garden
in a few
pots!
I get to spend time with myself
whenever I want!
I get to see
& feel
the suffering
of the whole
world
& to take
a nap
when I feel
like it
anyway!
I get to spend time with myself
whenever I want!
I get to feel
more love
than I ever thought
existed!
Everything appears to be made
of the stuff!
I feel this
especially for You! Though I may not remember
exactly which You
you are!
How cool is this!
Still, I get to spend time with myself
whenever I want!
And that is just a taste
as the old people used to say
down in Georgia
when I was a child
of what you get
for getting old.
Reminding us, as they witnessed our curiosity about them, that no matter the losses, there's something fabulous going on at every stage of Life, something to let go of, maybe, but for darn sure, something to get!
poem by Alice Walker
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A Babies Simple Smile
A babies simple smile
So Innocent and pure
A babies simple smile
All my Sadness it can cure
A babies simple smile
Incapable of fraud
A babies simple smile
This leaves me feeling awed
A babies simple smile
This fills my world with light
A babies simple smile
Oh how I love the sight
A babies simple smile
It’s a blessing I am sure
A babies simple smile
May it never be obscured
poem by Raven Nevermore
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